


Bittersweat Revenge

by SketchbookListener



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-04 00:17:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1760523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SketchbookListener/pseuds/SketchbookListener
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1998, Potter was captured, and given to S.H.I.E.L.D. It's 2012, and Potter is much different than one can expect after being experimented on. Potter and Loki meet, and the awakening of Potter's magic causes a bit of chaos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profits off The Avengers or Harry Potter. They belong to their respective owners.

Chapter 1 – The Caged Bird

Harry Potter had saved them. He had saved them multiple times with hardly a thank you, but he was okay with that. He wasn’t ungrateful, spoiled or prideful. But, he was angry. The very people he had just saved betrayed him. Then, back in 1998, he was confused, and that confusion allowed them a moment’s head start to stun, block his magic, and immobilize him. But, the fault was their own. They didn’t stop his mind from working. They thought what they were going was going to result in the greater good. Oh no. He would have laughed if he was able to.

Instead, he was the trophy, the prize, the carnal pleasure in the trade off. He remembered it clearly. Heavy metal chains gripped his wrists that effectively halted any magic from rising worth. Aurors surrounded him with the Minister of Magic in front speaking to the leader of S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Nick Fury was his name. Potter soon learned that this Muggle man was one to fear. Well, if one didn’t have magic. 

In exchange for incarcerating Harry Potter, famed Savior of the Wizarding World, the British Wizarding World would aid in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s capture of any rouge wizards or abnormal people too much for the Muggles to handle. Now, it was 2012. Somewhere along the lines, Harry Potter lost his marbles. What S.H.I.E.L.D. never told the Minister was that the top scientists would experiment on Potter to see if they could find anyway to re-create that magic for Muggles. As a desperate measure, Potter sealed his magic to his magical core so all their results would come back as a normal Muggle, and not a magical being.

Perhaps this is what drove Potter mad. Perhaps it was the endless surgeries, needles, and questions. The scientists couldn’t explain it. Nick Fury always held the same emotionless expression on his face, and Agent Coulson was calm about everything. Potter made sure to keep careful tabs on all the Muggles he disliked (the list was quite long), and the ones whose company he enjoyed (which was quite few). However, more people were to be added to the lists.

Random unimportant guards were escorting Harry Potter to the other side of the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters where the scientists were kept waiting for him. Another experiment they swore would answer their questions. Potter’s face split into a small grin, as he couldn’t wait to witness their disappointment. Over the years, he had learned to be very patient, and he was rewarded. He stopped walking, catching the attention of his two guards behind him. This was the first time in ten years he had acted out of his normal routine. Studiedly, they stood back to see if he would do anything.

Potter’s pupils started to dilate at the sensation he was feeling. Those Muggles could never feel the pleasure and aphoristic feel of magic. It had been fourteen years since he had sealed away his own magic to protect it – to protect the other Wizards and Witches from being found out and used as experiments as well. Ah, his hero complex had bit him in the rear once upon long ago, but if it meant he had to live another fourteen years without it to experience this sensation again he would do it.

Potter felt tendrils wrap around his body like a lover’s carcass. This wasn’t the magic of Thor. He had felt the trembles of his magic before, but it was nothing like this in any way. No, this was someone who understood the power, the beauty, and the heart of everything that it meant to be magical. Whom did this belong to?

Thankfully, Potter didn’t have to wait long. A tall dark-haired man with ivory skin was being escorted to his cell with Agent Coulson and two guards closely behind. Potter had no moment to think, and did exactly what instinct (or maybe it was the power behind that magic) commanded of him. Potter kneeled before the man, shackled in ‘anti-magic’ wristbands. The guards, and Agent Coulson stood back to observe what was happening. The guards knew no better, and Coulson knew Fury was watching from the cameras to make sure Loki entered his cell without problems. Coulson couldn’t deny he was curious as well since Potter rarely did anything out of routine.

Loki smirked, and held out his left hand for Potter to take who placed a small kiss to the knuckles.

“If I may be granted to ask a question, what is your name?” Potter questioned. Coulson raised an eyebrow. Potter never asked questions, never spoke, and never approached anyone. What made Loki different? Loki smirked at the young man’s gesture.

“I will grant your request if you would do the same for me. My name is Loki, Prince of Asgard—“

“And a wielder of magic.” Loki couldn’t contain his full grin even if he wanted. Ah, he knew exactly what this young man was. “My name is Harry Potter.”

“And you are a Wizard. Rise.” Potter obeyed, and stood on his feet.

“Agent Coulson, put Loki in his cell now before the two start to hatch a plan,” Director Nick Fury ordered to his Agent via headset.

“I apologize to breakup this meeting, but we have to escort Loki to his new home,” Agent Coulson gently suggested. “Gentlemen, continue your routines.”

“Yes, sir,” Potter’s guards mimicked, and shoved Harry to continue forward.

“We shall meet again, Harry Potter,” Loki said as he was motioned to move as well.

“I look forward to it, Loki.”

Back in his office, Nick Fury was slightly worried. Those two should have never met, and would not have if those guards had not just stood there, and wondered what Potter was going to do. His interaction with Loki brought up questions, and perhaps Thor could answer them. Thankfully, the Avengers were still on the ship so Fury went off to question to see if the Norse God had any answers.

 

I have no idea where I’m going with this story aside from a very basic idea or with a pairing. Please review with your suggestions!


	2. Chapter 2 - The Caged Bird Flies

Thank you so much for the reviews! I’m loving your suggestions, and we’ll see what happens! Here is Chapter 2!

 

Chapter 2 – The Caged Bird Flies

It wasn’t Director Nick Fury’s original idea to experiment on Potter. Potter sat in his cell for the first two years. Fury recalled watching the camera film multiple times of Potter’s progression of his breakdown; the prisoner had been unstable. The Wizard’s entire world had shifted in a matter of hours. Family, friends, and loved ones were all gone. Communication cut clean off. Potter suffered from lack of touch, communication, and Fury assumed his magic. Even Potter wasn’t allowed to touch the three possessions on him – a cloak, a ring and a stick.

In 2000, S.H.I.E.L.D. met up with a rouge Wizard who was easy to take down thanks to a special unit. This dead rouge raised questions within the staff. Fury was nice (as nice as the Director could get) when it came to Potter. By this time, Potter had become silent. His nightmares plagued him still at night as the staff made sure to cut off sound whenever they switched shifts. The guards had complained about getting nightmares of Potter’s screams.

Fury requested Potter’s help then demanded it, and nearly forced it. However, Potter would not budge. Instead, the prisoner sat in his chair, a frown marred his face. He wouldn’t answer any questions, give any advice on how to deal with these rouges, and was impossible to bribe. He nearly smiled at the mention of getting back the cloak, but it returned to a frown.

Director Nick Fury only did was his superiors demanded him to do. There was no other option they informed him, and they had even threatened to replace him. Nobody replaced Nick Fury, and he would be dead, damned with his carcass burned before he allowed some idiot to take his place. Harry Potter would be experimented on in order to figure out what made these Wizards and Witches different from normal humans. When Potter was first informed of this, it was the first time he cracked a grin, and spoke to them - to the first team of scientists who had no prior interaction with him thought this reaction was perfectly normal for their patient.

Potter stood up, the heavy Goblin-made chains dragging against the floor until they would no longer allow the Wizard to walk any further as they stretched from the bolts against the wall. He stared into Fury’s eye, Harry’s grin spreading across his scarred face.

“One day, you will ask for my help to take on a rouge magic user whether it be Wizard, Witch, god, villain – whatever title you want to call ‘em,” the twenty-year-old said. “And I won’t be there to help you. You’re only following orders. You only want the best for the greater good.” Potter stepped back, and ran his hands through his untamed hair as if thinking in distress. Then, he laughed, and all the glass in the room shattered. The scientists were frightened, but Nick Fury stood his ground. “Feel free to cut me open Director. Try to harness my magic. Just be warned that whatever your people do to me, I can do much worse.”

Twelve years, multiple surgeries, diagnoses, scientists and medicine later, Harry Potter was in the same lab with a happy grin on his face. He wore a regular white t-shirt, pants, socks and house shoes. The back of his shirt had the numbers #390 printed in a thick black font. The clothing did nothing to hide Potter’s mapping of stitches where he’d been cut open like a new magical creature. His short, still unmanageable hair concealed the scars where three years ago one of the scientists had decided to look into his brain. This new bunch of scientists had sworn they would discover the root of magic just like their colleagues in the past, but they would fail, and he would just grin and enjoy it. 

Across the room, he eyed his possessions locked in clear cases. Every scientist tried to cut, damage, slice – whatever it took to understand why those three items were the most important to the young man. Every time a new one tried, Potter would just sit there and laugh at their idiocy. One time he laughed so hard he was in tears, and it took him half an hour to calm down. He grew tired of warning the people, and instead gained new amusement with each new technique they tried. But soon, he wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.

~.~.~

Once Loki had been placed in his cell, Fury had requested that Agent Coulson escort the Avengers to an empty conference room. Since Stark already had a habit of breaking into his security system he would already know of Potter, and Fury didn’t need his pilots and crew fearing for their lives with two very dangerous criminals in headquarters.

Nick Fury stepped into the conference room, the door shutting behind him. Agent Coulson already prepared the soundproof technology so Fury didn’t have to worry about random people overhearing them. Natasha and Clint were leaning against the wall on the other side of the door. Steve sat near the head of the long table placed in the center. Tony was down at the other end with his feet in another chair, and Bruce was to his left; these two nearest to the door. Thor was pacing near Steve.

“So, when were you going to tell us about the Mischief God and Potter’s encounter?” Stark started, looking at his nails.

“Around the same time as you were going to be productive for once,” Fury commented back. He decided to remain standing, and leaned against the wall closest to Steve. 

“I put it on the big screen so they know about it,” Stark mentioned as he motioned to the audience in the room. “Thor is worried that his brother is going to kill Potter.”

“Man of Steel, I am not worried about that,” Thor slipped in as he stopped pacing. “My brother’s intentions are questionable. Tell me, Fury, who is this Son of Potter?”

“According to the files,” Stark interjected casually as he brought up the files from his wonderful Starkpad. “Potter has been a prisoner here for fourteen years starting when he was seventeen years old. He has no criminal record yet he’s considered highly dangerous? What gives One-Eye?” Fury felt a slight headache coming on, but anything that dealt with Tony Stark was one. It was either he told the Avengers or Stark would snoop further.

“Fourteen years ago, Potter was brought before us from a world that we knew nothing about. A magical world,” Fury began. “He was given to us so we could house the prisoner so he would no longer be a danger to his society.”

“A threat? The dude looks like calling him names would break him!” Stark did a bit of hacking, and placed Potter’s files on the projection screen that was next to Fury. There were no windows so there was no fear of random people peeking in. The 1998 photo of Potter was on the wall with information about weight, height, all that basic info right beside him.

“As I was saying Stark, in exchange for housing him if we ever came across a magical user we could contact the magical society to help.”

“Did they keep to their world?” Steve asked.

“Bastards didn’t answer our phone call. They left us with a kid we knew nothing about. Unfortunately, my superiors saw fit to force us to experiment on the kid.” Stark pulled up before-and-after surgery photos. 

“Is there anything regarding medicine they used on him?” Bruce questioned. Stark quickly pulled up the files. Stark and Banner understood the medical terminology very well, and Bruce had to calm himself. It would do no good to get angry right now.

“I take it what they gave him is bad?” Clint lightly asked.

“They gave him some fucked up stuff,” was Stark’s reply. “The kid has got to be seriously messed up by now.”

“Nobody is allowed near him,” Natasha informed.

“Was there an accident?” Steve inquired.

“A guard tried to take advantage of Potter’s lack of mobility,” Coulson said. “When someone finally noticed that Potter’s camera was off, several Agents including myself found Potter sitting on his bed like it was another morning.”

“But—“ Clint said.

“The guard was nowhere to be seen,” Fury continued. “The entire room was splattered with the poor bastard’s blood. No flesh, no clothing – nothing. But Potter? Clean and white with the chains and wristbands still on him.”

“Chains? Wristbands? ” Steve asked.

“Anti-magic wristbands to trap his magic,” Coulson provided. 

“What!” Thor shouted, slamming his fists into the table causing it to crack. “You trapped his magic?!” He had been so quiet and observant that the others almost forgot the Norse God was in the room.

“His old friends did,” Fury responded.

“That explains everything,” Thor whispered to himself.

“Woe, woe there Point Break. What are you on about?” Stark nearly demanded.

“The man is a Wizard,” Thor started. “They indirectly worship the Magical Gods and Goddesses through their performance of magic. My brother is one of those Gods. Because Son of Potter’s magic has been sealed away for fourteen years the taste of magic drew him in.”

“So he’s an addict?” Stark intruded.

“It sounds like it would be the equivalent of Stark without his Iron Man suit,” Steve added. “Potter lost his powers, and now he’s starving for them again.”

“When a magical being’s power is trapped then they slowly become insane. If it wasn’t for Lady Jane I would have eventually when my father took my powers,” Thor inserted. Everyone was silent as they coiled their minds over this new piece of information. “Maybe the Son of Potter can help Loki…”

~.~.~

Loki sat in his prison, the grin never fading from his face. Ah, what a rare occurrence. A Wizard held prisoner here. How delightful! This would make his stay far more eventful. He had felt the presence of another magic user, and it was angry. Normal people could not feel the pulses of silent anger and hatred echoing off this person who grinned like a mad man. Loki could feel the power that was underneath, trapped like a caged bird. That was why he sent his magic out to search for this person and behold!

When Potter kissed Loki’s hand, it was simply a sign of worship. After all, Loki had the ability to withdraw and grant any user magical power. Of course, the withdrawn resulted in death because the magic was attached to the mental stability of a person especially after a lengthy period of time the person would simply cease to exist. Loki thought he would have to wait until Thor burst in here, but it seemed Potter would be the one.

How long had it been since he met a Wizard? Years ago when he heard the silent prayer of a young boy back in the 1940s. Whatever happened to Tom Riddle he wondered lightly.

~.~.~

Harry Potter hummed a rhyme-less tune as he collected his Elder Wand, Resurrection Stone ring and Invisibility Cloak from their respective boxes. The scientists lay dead on the ground behind him. There were no wounds, no markings or anything to indicate that they were dead except by the glassy look in their eyes. Harry decided to be nice to them. Unlike the previous ones, these were quite nice to him, but he knew they wouldn’t allow him to leave. As a parting gift, he killed them quietly and quickly. No pain, no screams, no horrors.

After all these years, the seal on his magic was breaking, and if he didn’t exercise it regularly it had the habit of hurting him. How unkind of it!

The ring slipped easily on his right middle finger, the cloak wrapped around him, and the Elder Wand in his hands. It felt good to have it back even if the anti-magic wristbands prevented much of his magic from being released. Under the concealment of the cloak, Harry Potter waved his hand over the unsecured and unlocked door to exit the room. He gave himself ten minutes before anyone would take notice of his absence.

He continued to hum as he strolled down the hallways making his way towards Loki whose cell should be near his given the security. Guards, employees and even several Agents passed Potter, but they didn’t notice especially when Agent Norma had her security badges swiped. He didn’t really need them, but his hands itched to do something that actually counted as a crime. He chuckled at the joke.

When he passed the conference room, he knew Thor and the others were in there, and frankly didn’t care. He almost hoped Thor would notice the passing of something abnormal so he could use the Norse God’s strength to tear these shackles off him. But, that would come later.

~.~.~

Thor’s head quickly picked up when he felt a disturbance. It was quiet like a thief, and even though he wasn’t proficient in handling magic like his brother, Thor had been taught to at least feel for magical people and creatures. Years of living with Loki taught Thor how to detect them even if they were sneaking. Agent Coulson and Nick Fury caught this, and the Agent left the room quickly to assess the situation. Natasha and Clint followed behind just in case.

“Son of Potter,” Thor whispered before rushing out of the room.

“Would someone update me on what is happening!” Stark demanded. 

“It seems that Potter is making mischief this time and not Loki for once,” Fury answered. 

~.~.~

“I was wondering when you would arrive,” Loki said. Potter removed the cloak’s hood allowing its magic to dispel. The Wizard grinned at the Norse God who stood up from his spot on the bed, and walked over the glass door. Both magical users knew that the Silvertongue God could have escaped at any time, and only pretended that the glass chamber could seal him. Much like how Potter pretended.

“I must thank you in advance for the entertainment you’ll bring,” Potter responded. He was about to swipe Agent Norma’s card when he heard the heavy footsteps of the Warrior God coming. “Your brother is arriving.” Potter secured his hood back on, and once more became invisible. Loki walked until he stood in the center of the room pretending he knew Thor was coming. When the golden God did arrive, his breath was heavy from the running, but Loki knew Thor could last a lot longer when it came to endurance.

“You’ve finally decided to visit me Thor?” Loki pecked at, grinning.

“Where is the Son of Potter?” Thor asked. He could feel magic around him, but couldn’t pinpoint it. 

“What are you on about?”

“I know you met the Wizard. I was hoping that maybe you two could help each other. I know there is good in you Loki—“

“Potter and I are going to help each other.”

“Are you—“

“And as for the good, I don’t think I have any left in me.”

Thor went to say something else, but was surprised when the door opened. Loki disappeared, and Thor was pushed into the glass chamber. The God turned around, and saw Loki and Potter marred with identical grins. At that moment, Black Widow and Hawkeye entered; Black Widow with her gun out and Hawkeye had an arrow drawn.

“I would stay for tea, but I’ve overstayed my welcome. Give Fury my thanks,” Potter said as he grabbed Loki’s arm. With a pop, the two magical users disappeared.


	3. Chapter 3 - The Caged Bird Plots

For those who have been asking/pleading, Harry will not be paired up with anybody. There may be hints of gay and straight, but nothing physical. 

If you still want a pairing, I can adapt the story in another fanfic to suit it. However, everybody else is up for grabs.

Reviews make me happy, and they make me want to write some more! Thank you all so much!

~.~.~

Chapter 3 – The Caged Bird Plots

~.~.~

Harry Potter Apparated them to 12 Grimmauld Place. The place spared from dust, but it looked like nobody had lived there since the war. Good.

“Kreacher!” Potter shouted, and the elf appeared before him. Kreacher knocked himself over from the shock of seeing Potter and a friend standing there, but it was in awe at the power Potter was radiating. Of course, the other male had power, but it was the boy who allowed him to keep Master Regulus’s locket that surprised and shocked him. Kreacher was in pure awe. Potter grinned at the elf. “Good. You’re still here. Does anybody live here?”

“No, Master Potter,” Kreacher said in a polite manner. Potter cocked his head to the side in curiosity; Kreacher was never nice to him. “After Master Potter went missing after defeating the Half-Blood, Kreacher banned everyone from entering the house. Floo lines and all. Until Master Potter or a Black line returned, Kreacher remained here, and no one could come in.”

“So, unless the Malfoys come here we’re safe from detection. Good.” Potter was pleased with this.

“Sometimes Master and Mistress Malfoys come visit Kreacher. Make sure the Black house is properly run.” Potter frowned at that. That meant he had to confront his past sooner than he anticipated.

“Do you know if they will visit soon?”

“No, Master Potter. Their visits are random.” Potter nodded before looking at his companion.

“Make yourself a home. We’ll be here for a while.” Something about this place anchored Potter down Loki noted. Maybe it was the comfort of home. “I’m going to change. Kreacher, make us some tea will you? Oh! And I want some delicious warm biscuits! Fresh from the bakery. Do you want anything Loki?”

“Loki!” Kreacher shouted uncharacteristically, stepping back before going on his knees and bowing. Loki smirked at the action, and felt pride well up in him. He may not have been that respected in Asgard, but in the magical world he was worshipped. “Kreacher apologizes, Lord Loki. Kreacher did not mean any disrespect!” Potter raised an eyebrow at Loki. The Norse God chuckled.

“House elves use to be Elves until I cursed a few of them,” Loki explained. “And I am the only one who can reverse it. Of course, that is the short version of the tale.” Potter grinned.

“You must tell me the rest over tea. Look around the house if you wish. I shall return in a few minutes,” Potter stated before heading upstairs. 

Even after fourteen years, Potter absentmindedly led himself to the very room he had not entered in a very long time. He stood in front of Sirius Black’s door. Slowly, he placed his hand on the doorknob, and turned it. Luckily, it turned, and he pushed open the door allowing it to open all the way. Stepping inside, his eyes scanned the room; an unmade bed, random papers and photos scattered on the floor, books with random personal objects on their shelves, and a chest. The spicy scent mixed with wood was familiar, and Potter felt the longing for his deceased Godfather.

Potter shut the door. Light illuminated the room allowing him to see more clearly. Removing the cloak, and setting it along with the Elder Wand on the bed, he made his way to the chest to see if there was any clothing in there. Opening each drawer and pulling out a selective amount, Potter decided to wear black pants, a white button-up with a forest green vest in the front. He turned his back so as not to look in the mirror attached to the chest of drawers – he hated his appearance. Glamour would not work unless he had the full extent of his magic. As of right now, he was able to perform up to fourth year spells, and the glamour he needed was of a much higher rank.

Looking at the top of the wooden chest, he saw a ring that shined darkly. 

“Kreacher,” Potter called. The house elf appeared with a soft pop.

“Yes, Master Potter?”

“Who is the heir to the Black family?”

“Master Potter is, Sir.”

“And the Black Heir ring?”

“Is on that chest, Master Potter.”

Potter picked up the ring, and stared at it. The band was silver with intricate leaf designs much like the Black family banner; the stone was a circular black pearl with tiny sapphire diamonds surrounding the sides. 

“If Master Potter was not the Black heir then Master Potter could not enter the house,” Kreacher explained. Potter slipped the ring onto his right index finger.

“Thank you Kreacher. Are the tea and biscuits ready?”

“Yes, Master Potter.”

“And Loki?”

“Lord Loki is in the library.”

“Thank you Kreacher. You are dismissed.” Kreacher disappeared with a pop. Potter removed his white slippers, and slipped on some plain socks and black shoes. Grabbing the wand, Potter slowly made his way to the kitchen. He had forgotten how heavy actual shoes felt so it took some minutes before he could actually walk properly.

~.~.~

Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers and Tony Stark had the hardest time accepting S.H.I.E.L.D.’s actions. Of course, they were shocked and appalled. Each of these men had been experimented on whether willingly or unwillingly so they were familiar with the procedures, but Harry Potter had been the subject of this for twelve years. 

When Stark was bored, and was snooping through S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files he had seen Potter’s file. He never investigated Potter’s file nor any other person that was under experimentation, but Stark did notice that Potter’s was the only one that continued to live while the others had been concluded with a big red stamp labeling it a failure. Like Banner and Rogers, was hoping that these experiments would result in the greater good.

Stark’s laughter rang out in the conference room when he realized what had just crossed his mind.

For the greater good. 

How many men and women were murdered, kidnapped, permanently silence so the best and most positive outcome would happen.

Rogers had trapped himself in his mind as he recollected the horrid memories of witnessing Nazi experiments on those labeled the lesser race. He remembered vividly the mangled, starved and tortured bodies; the stench of burnt flesh, chemicals and rotten bodies made any war veteran vomit. When interrogating the Nazi scientists, they each proclaimed in happy words that explained their actions.

For the greater good. 

Banner was doing all he could to keep calm. Counting numbers, sheep, tiles on the ceiling – anything to keep him calm. He was familiar with the emotions of betrayal, and he felt angry in the place of Potter who had cracked. When Stark pulled up Potter’s files, it had also listed the primary school with notes from teachers and yearbook photos of a young Harry James Potter. Banner was not a fool. He could see evidence of abuse, starvation, and neglect thanks to his own childhood. Did S.H.I.E.L.D. not realize what they were adding to Potter when they experimented? But, he joined in with Stark’s laughter, it was all for one purpose.

For the greater good. 

The door opened, and Black Widow, Hawkeye and Thor stepped inside. They looked at the scientists with confused looks as they took their seats across from the men. Stark fell backwards causing him to laugh harder.

“Man of Steel, are you alright?” Thor asked. It took Banner and Stark five more minutes to stop laughing, and for Stark to stand up from his spot. Before he could say anything, Rogers stood up as well, the chair falling over causing the Avengers to look at their Captain.

“Stark, we need to speak in your tower,” he ordered. Everybody agreed, and off they went. 

Director Nick Fury and Agent Coulson were watching from the cameras. They said nothing except a silent hope that these people could undo S.H.I.E.L.D.’s actions.

~.~.~

Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger married five years after the faithful events that changed their lives. It was in June 2003, Hermione added Weasley to her last name as the two best friends joined in magical union. It was painfully obvious they missed their third partner, and wished Harry Potter would return to them.

When the battle had settled, Ron and Hermione instantly went out in search of their best friend, but could not find him anymore. They were informed Potter had been taken to St. Mungo in which the staff knew nothing about when confronted. Molly Weasley marched into the Ministry demanding to see her all-but-blood son. The only thing that stopped her was when Minister Scrimgeour threatened to remove her husband from his job if she did not calm down. He confessed he knew nothing of Potter’s whereabouts, and had his Aurors search for the Savior for three years before capturing other rouge Wizards and Witches topped it.

Not a single honest person knew where Harry Potter was.

Many assumed he was dead. Others captured by Death Eaters. There were even whispers of a new Dark Lord.

Ron and Hermione continued to search for their best friend even after they were married; after all, they did not have any children. Through the discovery by magical and Muggle methods, both adults’ reproductive organs were too poisonous to reproduce due to the tortures they suffered in the war. Bellatrix made sure the Mudblood couldn’t reproduce properly, and was probably laughing in her grave. If Hermione ever got pregnant, and a child produced then said child would not be able to survive outside the womb. If the child managed to be born alive then he or she would suffer many disabilities both physical and mental.

Both had cried over the loss on the death of having no children as they had planned for some time, but accepted it. They focused their energy into their jobs, the search and in their marriage. Fourteen years after the war ended, they were happy. They had their own home close to the other Weasleys.

Ron would often visit his brother George who never recovered over Fred’s death. The Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes continued on as it was the only thing that kept George from keeping to the bottle. Ginny concentrated on her position as Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies; she remains unmarried. Bill and Fleur’s marriage was fine, but they also could not have children. None of their children was able to survive past infancy, and after the third child, they quit trying for children. Charlie also remained unmarried, and continued to care for the dragons in Romania. Percy remained working as a court scribe for the Ministry.

Molly and Arthur died four years ago due to an accident during a well-deserved vacation that the Weasley children saved up for them. To bring it up would cause great grief to the Weasley children so let the story continue.

Hermione and Ron were visiting the wife’s family in Britain when a knock came to the door. Mrs. Granger answered the door, and was promptly shocked at a serious man with an eye-patch.

“Good afternoon Mrs. Granger. Is your daughter at home?” he asked. She nodded her head slowly.

“Hermione! Someone is at the door for you!” she called. The Weasleys exchanged a look; nobody knew they would be here. They pulled out their wands. Ron instantly went into Auror mode, but knew whatever came for Hermione she could defeat them on her own. Hermione casually answered the door with her wand hidden up her sleeve just in case.

“Good afternoon Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. I am Director Nick Fury, and I’m here to speak to you about Harry Potter.” Hermione dropped her wand, and Ron nearly fainted at the words they longed to hear for fourteen years.

~.~.~

Harry Potter was staring off into the distance when he heard the telltale noise of the floo network used. Ah! Visitors! He had hoped that the Malfoys would not visit him so soon, but here he was with biscuits and tea for his guests. Listening carefully, he heard the voices, and remembered the people very well – Lucius, Narcissa and Draco. Grinning, he decided to lean against the wall near the doorframe to scare them. He enjoyed an excellent fright.

“I’m telling you Lucius I smell the scent of fresh biscuits. Kreacher never fetches fresh biscuits,” Narcissa commented from the living room. 

“Are you sure it’s not from the manor Mother?” Draco asked.

“I am positive, and I smell tea too. This house has a way to carry scents.” Both men were not going to call the woman crazy for they feared for their lives too much.

“Then let us make our way into the kitchen,” Lucius suggested, and the three Malfoys did just that. Harry felt his heart race up slightly at the prospect of frightening people. Then, he remembered that the Malfoys helped him when he was trapped at their manor! Oh dear. It would not do well to frighten them then. Pouting slightly, but quickly bounced back to his happy demeanor, Harry decided to return to his seat at the head of the kitchen table, and continue sipping tea. Ah. Fresh wonderful British tea, and not that crap those Americans have.

He plopped his feet on the table, and waited. It wasn’t even a moment later when all three were visible by the doorway, and all three stepped back in fright. Potter couldn’t help, but laugh at their expressions until he nearly fell over backwards on his chair. Thankfully, he had set his teacup down because if he spilled any he would be sad.

“Potter?” the Malfoys asked. Draco slowly stepped forward first; his eyes trained on Potter. The missing man had a thin scar running from his head, down his left eye, and disappeared underneath the shirt. There were little Xs every inch or so along the line. His hair was fluffier last time the Malfoy heir had seen Potter fourteen years ago. Potter received new glasses much like his old pair, but this one appeared sturdier. 

There were more scars and stitches running along his hands, and disappeared underneath the sleeves. Malfoy switched into his professional mode, and wanted to know exactly was lying underneath the clothes. He was no fool, and any man like Harry Potter was bound to have more stories and scars.

Lastly, Draco noticed the additional wristbands. Goblin anti-magic metal running three inches along the forearms, and were half an inch thick. At first, they appeared to be plain and silver, but then Draco realized that there were engravings etched. If he got close, he could probably make out what exactly the engravings said. 

“What a lovely surprise!” Potter shouted as he jumped up from his chair. He walked over to Draco and smiled. “It’s lovely to see you three well and healthy! I’d say it warms my heart, but I think those scientists took that out thinking magic was in there.”

“What do you mean scientists?” Lucius asked. Kreacher appeared, and started to serve some fresh tea.

“Sit, and we shall talk!” Potter hyped. He returned to his chair, and took another wonderful sip of delicious tea. “Kreacher! The tea is amazing!”

“Thank you Master Potter,” the house elf said. Slowly, the Malfoys sat down. Draco was to Potter’s left, Lucius and Narcissa to the right. There was a pot of warm blueberry lemon tea, and a plate of biscuits arranged beautifully on a silver platter.

“Scientists,” Potter started, “are a lot alike like spell crafters. They tend to perform experiments, research, execute and conclude, etc. I have had many scientists perform experiments on me trying to understand and replicate magic.”

“Replicate magic!” Lucius exclaimed. It was every pureblood Wizard and Witch’s worst nightmare, and to hear Potter say this was frightening. Potter nodded his head.

“That is where I’ve been for the past fourteen years. Trapped thanks to a few trustworthy people.”

“Lord Potter,” Narcissa spoke, “what happened to you after the defeat of Voldemort?” Potter took another sip of his tea, and decided it needed to be bitterer.

“Lord Malfoy, when is the next Wizengamot meeting?” Potter asked, ignoring Narcissa’s question.

“Next month, Lord Potter.” Potter grinned, and it frightened the Malfoys. It was very similar to Voldemort before he tortured someone.

“Good.” The elder Malfoys felt disturbed by this young man. Draco wasn’t. “I plan on announcing something quite big, and I have a nice and simple plan with only one objective.” Potter stood up, and spread his arms out like he was the ringleader in a circus. “Both Dumbledore and Voldemort were very wrong in many things, and I plan on correcting their mistakes and ideals. What the good people of the magical world do not realize is the very danger they are force to accept. Purebloods, Half-Bloods, Muggleborns… everybody will be much better off once this plan is complete.”

“And what do you plan on doing, Lord Potter?” Narcissa asked. Lucius and Narcissa held hands underneath the table for fear of going through a third time of another Voldemort. Potter’s grin spread until it threatened to split his face. They could see the mad man that lurked inside, and worst part was that mad man locked inside.

“That, Lady Malfoy, is a surprise for next month. I need no followers, no minions and if there are no supporters that’s fine too. I have the greatest allies that no mortal could have, and all of this will be for the greater good.” 

“That’s all fine and well, but what are we going to do about the anti-magic on you?” Draco pointed out. He stood up from his chair, and walked over to the scarred man. Gently, he took Potter’s left wrist in his hand, and tried to read the Goblin language etched into the band. Draco pushed the white sleeve back to observe more, but his eyes locked onto the burn marks along his upper forearm.

Potter’s grin faded. Draco didn’t say anything as he traced his fingers over the burn mark. Without asking, he moved the sleeve up revealing half of Potter’s arm. More burn marks and stitches were uncovered. Some of the scars were black, purple, red and one of the scars was even green. Draco knew instantly what Potter wanted to do.

“I will not force you to do this,” Potter whispered. Neither of the elder Malfoys could hear them. “There will be no mark, no signature, and no life debt. I will not become another Voldemort and enslave people. I will not become another Dumbledore and trick people.”

“Even if you did, I would still follow you,” Draco uttered. Harry stepped back in fright. His magic told him Draco was telling the truth, and that is what frightened him the most. Many questions ran through his head, but he suddenly felt sleepy. Harry dipped forward, and Draco caught him. “Father, help me please. Kreacher!”

Kreacher popped in, and stared worriedly at his Master. Lucius Malfoy stood, took Potter’s right arm to place over his shoulders, and wrapped a hand around the young man’s waist.

“Kreacher, take us to Lord Potter’s room,” Draco softly ordered. Kreacher nodded, and guided the two men away.

Narcissa sighed heavily, and finished her cup of tea. Her past littered with problems, and she had hoped that after the war there would be much less of it. As soon as she set her cup down, she noticed a man sitting in the chair across from the head’s and to her right.

“My mother taught me it wasn’t polite to leave a lady at the table by herself. How rude of the other men,” he said, flashing a smile. Narcissa wished at that moment she could have a shot of firewhiskey to calm her nerves, but a Pureblood woman’s answer was never alcohol. Summoning the manners that her mother, tutors, and Pureblood etiquette taught her, she turned to the man.

“Not unless an event such as this happens. I am quite fine, and more than able to handle myself good sir,” she answered in a dignified manner. The man chuckled.

“There are exceptions to the rule, yes.” He gestured for the teapot. Narcissa passed it down so the man could pour himself some tea.

“Since our host is not here to introduce each other, I shall start. I am Lady Narcissa Malfoy.” She held her hand out which Loki took, and planted a small kiss upon her knuckle. This wasn’t the submissive gesture that Potter had done hours ago, but rather a sign of good fortune for the woman whether she knew it or not. To the Purebloods, the men had known this custom for centuries.

“I am Loki, Prince of Asgard.” Narcissa froze. 

The Sacred Twenty-Eight’s descendants knew about the beginning of magic, and Loki was among the Gods and Goddesses to be worshipped, thanked and feared. Throughout the years, the tales had all, but vanished except from the Noble and Most Ancient Houses, respectively. However, the entire tale of this would be told at a later time.

If Walburga saw her daughter now she would come out of the painting, and beat Narcissa for being disrespectful.

“My Lord, my apologizes for the disrespect. Please do not see this as the manners of the most Ancient and Noble Houses of Malfoy and Black,” Narcissa spoke, and bowed her head in respect. Loki chuckled.

“Do not fret my dear. I am in a very good mood, and you did not know who I was. Unlike some of the other Magical Gods, I do not punish on whim. Rise, Lady Malfoy. You do your houses honor.” Narcissa picked her head up, and smiled. It had been a long time since she brought honor to her houses. Loki sipped his tea.

“What honor do we owe to you Lord Loki for gracing us with your presence?”

“Harry Potter is the one who set the events in motion, and we shall see what happens. I do not even know what he plans, but what I do know is that it’ll change the worlds.”


	4. Chapter 4 - The Caged Bird Waits

I absolutely love you guys! Sorry for the wait so here is Chapter 4!

~.~.~

Chapter 4 – The Caged Bird Waits

~.~.~

Lucius and Draco Malfoy carried Harry Potter up to the Lord’s bedroom, previously Sirius Black’s. When they managed to lay Potter on the bed after removing the cloak and glasses, Lucius turned to leave expecting his son to do the same. A quick glance back told him that wasn’t going to happen.

“I’m going to stay here Father,” Draco simply said.

“Draco, are you going along with this because of your job as a Mind Healer?” Lucius questioned. It felt not that long ago when Draco had followed his father’s footsteps as a Death Eater because it was expected. It was the father’s right to worry about his son going through with whatever Potter was planning simply because of his job.

“No,” the son firmly stated. “Potter and I know each other better than you think Father. A bonus of being schoolyard rivals. He seems changed, but the ultimate flaw of him hasn’t. I want to see this through. It is my decision that I support and mine alone. If Potter falls then I do too.”

Lucius rarely saw such devotion from his son. The last time was some years ago when Astoria and Draco married before the tragic event occurred. Since then, Draco had delved deep into his studies then in his career as a Mind Healer. Lucius and Narcissa concluded that Draco never recovered from it. They watched from afar as their son grew, and blocked the world out.

“Go have tea with Mother,” Draco suggested, but it was the same line he used when he wanted to be alone. Lucius nodded his head, and exited the room.

Wandless, Draco transfigured a chair and sat in it next to the bed. He had not spent the last fourteen years relaying on a piece of wood to save him – that was the fault of Voldemort. Of course, many other faults led to that man’s downfall, but the desire to hold power thanks to a wand instead of overcoming it; in the aftermath, seemed silly. Draco chuckled, and surveyed Harry. The lost boy seemed peaceful, but most people did.

“Welcome back Harry. I’ve missed you.”

~.~.~

“Where is our friend?” Hermione Weasley asked for the hundredth time. Normally, she would be well composed and the icon of an adult witch, but for the moment all she wanted to do was hug Harry Potter and never let go. Ron Weasley felt the same though he wouldn’t voice it until his best friend was there.

“That’s the thing, we don’t know,” Director Nick Fury spoke in honesty. They had taken the conversation to the living room; the Grangers were in the kitchen preparing supper. “Harry Potter has gone rogue. He disappeared with one of our convicts, and, assuming those two are still together, if we find one we’ll find the other.”

“How long have you held Harry captive?” Ron demanded. As Head Auror for four years, Ron been granted with enough experience to know when someone was lying or hiding key evidence. He would cough it up to having interrogated enough Voldemort supports over the years. Fury chuckled.

“Fourteen years.” The witch’s fingers twitched once. Twice. On the third she lunged forward.

“Fourteen years!” Hermione shouted, and Ron had to hold his wife back from physically beating Fury (he knew she would; he had witness it enough times to know the signs). His arms wrapped around her torso and he was thankful she had decided not to use her wand. “We have been searching for him for fourteen years, and you—you—you kept him from us! Do you even know what we went through when he disappeared!” Ron pulled her back down to the tan couch, and held her until he knew she had calmed down. It didn’t take long til her logical side geared back in.

Hermione’s temper had gotten worse over the years, but never directed at her husband. It was at the fools who kept hiding evidence because of the illogical idea of the greater good. There was one event when Ron happened in a courtroom and charmed his wife’s legs to the bench otherwise she would have physically beaten a criminal to death.

“Fourteen years ago, these people-“ Fury started as he pulled a folder from his coat, “came to us seeking an agreement. In exchange for keeping Potter prisoner, they offered their aid in any magical villains that seek to harm or destroy our world.” He laid the folder on the coffee table between them. Hermione quickly took it, and opened it.

Inside were the surveillance photos from 1998 revealing the people who Fury assumed were simply prison guards; lies, he knew they were something else, but didn’t have enough knowledge of the magical communities to know exactly what. Ron stood up, and paced around the living room trying to wrap his mind around the new information; it was a habit he formed during his earlier Auror years to keep him from exploding like he used to in his younger days. Hermione couldn’t take her eyes off the people. Her mind kept running into the brick wall that stopped the new information from analyzing properly because the people shocked her.

Once more, the very people they had placed in power and trusted betrayed the Wizarding World.

~.~.~

The Avengers reassembled back at headquarters or Stark’s tower. Steve Rogers was pacing as his thoughts wrapped around the situation. He should have done something; he should have raced out that room and released Harry from his prison, and left S.H.I.E.L.D. Nevertheless, he hesitated. His sense of duty crashed into the thoughts, and he wondered if what he would have done was correct. It didn’t matter now – Captain America had failed, and now who knows what would happen.

Bruce Banner and Tony Stark were upset about the situation as well, and Steve wondered if they were facing the same difficult decision he was.

“There’s something about that man,” Thor spoke. The others looked at him from across the massive living room; they had been quiet even with the privacy of Stark’s technology that S.H.I.E.L.D. could not penetrate. “When I was near him, it felt familiar. I don’t know how to place it.”

“What do you mean Point Break?” Stark asked. 

“I’ll explain the best I can. In Asgard, the Gods have a special aura around them. It tells us what they guard. Father’s is like a silent storm, Mother’s is warmth and peace, and Brother’s like moving current. This boy reminds me of something, something important, and I cannot remember.”

“Take it easy Thor,” Clint Barton suggested. Stark pulled up Potter’s files on the screen, and spread the screen so the Avengers were surrounded. Photos, school notes, experiment files and the three items were most prominent. Underneath were other important facts that were Harry Potter’s life. Thor traced his eyes over the typed notes, but he solely concentrated on those three items – specifically the cloak.

Stark saw this, and pulled everything back to the three items were most prominent – a stick, a stone and a cloak. There were a few photos of the cloak, and notes mentioning what could not cut into the fabric. Thor stood up from his place on the couch, and strolled to the screen. Natasha Romanov took a few steps closer to see if she could figure out what was up with the cloak. Thor glanced at her as she stood next to him, and his eyes widen at the realization. 

“HEL!” he shouted, throwing his hands up. This scared the Avengers out of their seats, and nearly gave them a heart attack.

“What are you talking about big guy?” Banner asked. 

“Hel… oh Odin… oh Odin do not tell me that child is… Man of Fury has made a grave mistake…” Thor rambled on, pacing around a bit.

“What are you talking about?” Barton questioned. Thor stopped, and pointed to the cloak.

“That fabric is like my niece’s.”

“Explain,” Romanov demanded.

“Hel is the Guardian of the Underworld where all souls go when they die,” Stark explained. He stood up, and stared at his companions. “What?” Thor nodded his head.

“Since when did you become an expert on the Norse religion?” Banner inquired, but knew the answer.

“Since last night.”

“All Death Gods and Goddesses wear the same fabric,” Thor started. “This enables them to hide from mortal eyes and even other God’s.”

“Which is why you didn’t see him when you went to check on Loki,” Bruce added.

“I don’t know what the stick or stone are, but I know that fabric. This Harry was gift with a cloak from one of the Death Gods. To have that honor has only occurred once, that happened many mortal years ago.”

“What’s the tale?”

“Long ago, the Death Gods presented a challenge to mortals that many fell. One day, three brothers won the trial. The Gods, whom were not pleased at all, appeared before them, and wanted to reward them with gifts wanting to trick the brothers. The eldest brother wanted a weapon that would defeat anything for its master. It’s said that one of the Gods took the wood from one of the Elder Trees and made the weapon. The second brother wanted a gift that would revive the dead. One of the Gods loved jewels and handed the brother a stone. And the third asked for a way not to be followed. I believe it was Hel who gave her cloak to the brother.”

“What happened to them?” Steve said.

“The brother with the weapon was an arrogant proud man much like myself before I met Lady Jane. He was killed, and the weapon taken. The second brother revived his dead lover and killed himself. The third hid from the Death Gods until it was his time. He handed the cloak to his son, and… I know there’s more, and I cannot remember. My mother has recited the tale many times.”

Stark tapped on his Starkpad, and groaned in annoyance.

“It seems Fury has the lead on us. He’s in Britain visiting who may be friends of Harry,” he mentioned. Pulling the video cam on screen, they watched as Fury discussed details with the two.

“Who are they?” Rogers requested.

“The girl is Hermione Weasley, and I assume the red head is her husband.” Stark pulled up files on Hermione on the screen. Like Potter, not much was on her. She attended a primary school, straight-A student, and then disappeared when she turned eleven. 

“What is going on? There’s a huge gap between when she turned eleven and her present self.” Rogers turned to Thor. “Do you have any ideas Thor?”

“Unfortunately no,” the Norse God replied. “Anything with magical people is out of my realm so I never bothered to look into it. That’s all Loki’s realm.”

“We’ll be fine. You forget, I’m an expert of finding stuff people don’t want found,” Stark commented, grinning. With a few clicks, he had his search engines running.

“What are you doing?” Romanov slipped in.

“With what Point Break told us, there’s bound to be something. After all, you can’t hide a community without being noticed at some point.”

“Hey guys, I just thought of something,” Barton called out. The others turned their attention to the archer. “Thor, you said Harry was a Wizard? Magical and all that, right?” Thor nodded his head. “The weapon is the wand, the stone resurrects people, and the cloak hides. Harry Potter has the gifts from the Death Gods.”

~.~.~

Harry stirred from his sleep, and decided to snuggle into the pillow that had an old and familiar scent to it. There were voices in his head having a conversation about some odd thing, and all he wanted to do was sleep. Twitching his fingers, he felt another pillow, and snatched it to cuddle it against his too thin body. He heard a chuckle, and debated with himself on whether to lay there or actually see who it was.

“Supper is nearly done if you’re hungry, Harry.” Harry’s eyes popped open, and he sat up quickly, but couldn’t see very well. The figure handed him his square glasses, and once they slipped on his face, Harry saw Draco sitting next to the bed. Willing himself to calm down, he glanced around the room to realize he was in Sirius’s old room. Only then, did he relax, and collapse onto the bed. Draco chuckled.

“What happened?” Harry asked. He turned on his right side, and faced Draco all the while still clinching the pillow. The Malfoy heir noted that it made Harry look almost like a child.

“What do you recall last?”

“We were in the kitchen, and you grabbed my wrist. You saw my scars.” Draco nodded.

“I said I would join you in what you were doing.” Harry bolted up.

“You don’t even know what I’m planning—“

“Doesn’t matter Harry. You still have that damn hero complex, and I know whatever it is will punish those who imprisoned you.”

“We haven’t spoken in fourteen—“ Draco smiled.

“It doesn’t matter. No one knows you like an enemy. Well, at least I hope we’re not enemies anymore.” Harry chuckled, and clinched the pillow tighter.

“Draco,” Harry said softly; both men were ignoring the odd fact they were using each other’s first names. “You have no idea what’s happened to me. What those Muggles did-“

“And I don’t have to know.” Harry perked his head up, and stared at the Slytherin. Draco leaned forward. “I’m a Mind Healer, Harry. I understand that it takes people time to get through certain situations and some don’t even want to speak on the matter at all. My job is to help them get through it.”

“Is that why—“

“But that’s not why I’m still here. I’m here because I believe in your cause. I may not have agreed with Voldemort in many of his ways, but there are certain ones that continue to stand hold. Ones that we were hoping when Voldemort took power he would enforce before he went insane the second go-around.” 

“What are you talking about Draco? The Purebloods and Tom stood for many ideals.” Draco stood from his spot, and slipped in his hands into his pockets. They stared at each other, waiting for the answer.

“Our world is dying Harry. Muggleborns are unable to feel it, but Purebloods and Half-bloods do. We feel our magical gift weakening. I see it with each new patient case that comes. Either the Magical Gods are unhappy with us or Muggleborns are watering down the magical potency. This is not a Pureblood ideal because of perfection. There’s a tale that every Pureblood child knows, and that is the origin on the Sacred Twenty-Eight – of how magical people came to be. Do you know of it?”

“Potters aren’t considered part of ‘em.”

“You’re Lord Black so now you have to know.”

Draco sighed lightly, running a hand through his blonde hair as he collected the tale.

“Back before the Peverell Brothers got their Deadly Hallow, way back before then, the Magical Gods and Goddesses blessed twenty-eight individuals with magic starting the magical lineages thus becoming the Sacred Twenty-Eight. For many years, whenever anyone of those families found a worthy spouse they too would be bless with magic. However, sometime around the late 1500s, the Magical Gods disappeared thus leaving the magical community to do what it wants. By this time, the Witches and Wizards had spread everywhere touching every continent, and discovered others who were gifted with the abilities. 

“It was around the 17th century when the Wizarding Communities decided to hide itself for fear of the Muggles discovering them. This worked for a while until the dawn of the 19th century when Muggleborns started to pop up. Magical Historians traced back Muggleborns to those who had no idea they could perform magic. Often, they took occupations such as magicians, circus members, religious healers, and anything Muggles labeled as miracles. Many Muggleborns chose to hide their abilities, but they eventually went mad and committed either murder or suicide.

“When the early Muggleborns stepped into our society, they were welcomed and seen as normal Witches and Wizards except for the Sacred Twenty-Eight who swore to stay pure. Arguments broke out, and thus divided the people. It didn’t help that many of the Purebloods were seated on the Wizengamot counsel, and many Purebloods were replaced with Muggleborn-sympathizers. Eventually, people started to talk about allowing Muggles to know of our world.

“That’s what made Grindelwald and Voldemort so popular when they took the reins. Both understood what the Purebloods wanted, and fought to separate the two worlds because they could never mingle. We watched from the sidelines as the Muggles combated and killed themselves over simple differences in appearance, gender, religion, sexual preference. If you knew the very Magical Gods we owe our lives to then you should know that none of those attributes matter.

“If the Muggles knew we existed then we would be killed. The Muggle-lovers do not understand this.”

Harry lowered his head, and pondered over this new information. Draco turned around, and breathed deeply. It was always difficult to discuss the purity of blood; it had become such a taboo topic that anyone who attempted to bring it up in a conversation was automatically label a Voldemort-supporter without evidence.

“I think I understand,” Harry spoke softly. Draco turned to see the man standing, his dress shirt unbuttoned revealing the markings on his chest. Malfoy’s eyes widen at the amount of scars, stitches, burn marks and so many other imperfections on the pale skin. Harry glanced down at himself, and chuckled lightly. “Don’t worry. Those Muggles will get what’s coming to them as well. The tale changes little of my plans. It reinforces the change that the worlds need.”

“I know a few people that would be willing to help you.” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Who? You don’t even know my plans yet.” Draco laughed.

“You forget that you have a hero complex and villains know the hero better than the good side.”

“This sounds like the war all over again. I hope we don’t have to camp anywhere. Who are your people?” Draco grinned.

“Zabini, Flint and Nott I know for sure would join. Pucey, Parkinson, Bulstrode, Bletchley, and Bole will listen.”

“And they’re all Slytherins,” Harry laughed out.

“I can reach my contacts to see who else would be interested.” Harry grinned.

“All I want to do is arrive at Wizengamot. I have a lovely entrance idea that even Lockhart would be proud of.”

“I have a better idea.”

“Oh?”

“Supper should be on by now.” The two men exit the room; Harry buttoning up his shirt.

~.~.~

“The two should be down soon. It has been quite some time,” Lucius Malfoy added to the conversation that redirected about Draco and Harry. Loki leaned back in his seat. The Malfoys amused him greatly, and made delightful company. Perhaps it was their sense of vanity and proud heritage that did this. Loki vaguely wondered what they would be like as regular mortals.

Not even a moment later, Draco and Harry entered the dining room. The room itself was large, but had a small dining table in the center. When the Order members stayed at Grimmauld Place, they had rearranged a few rooms to accommodate making plans and what not. Kreacher was reverting the room back to normal. A large portrait of some Black family member on the left wall and smaller landscape paintings where the Black ancestors danced on through.

There was a lit fireplace on the right wall as the place got a bit drafty at night. Delicious food was already on the table, and the guests were waiting for the host. Harry sat at the head with Loki and Draco to his right, and Lucius and Narcissa to the left. After a peaceful thanks to the Magical Gods (minis Loki who smirked), the five began eating.

“How are you fairing Lord Potter?” Narcissa asked. Harry glanced at the woman, and finally took in her appearance. She had aged gracefully, and still considered very beautiful. Her brunette hair had strands of gray in it, sharp blue eyes careful in observation. Harry was sure if anyone was testing their luck by insulting Narcissa’s appearance then they would surely go against Lucius who had gray in his hair as well, but was still the aristocratic man.

“I am well, thank you Lady Malfoy,” Harry replied. “I apologize for the worry. I guess not being in the lab, and free finally caught up with me. And please, call me Harry.” He took a sip of his tea. “Oh! I am a terrible host. Draco, this is Loki. Loki, this is Draco Malfoy.”

Draco coughed, quickly retrieving the napkin in his lap, and put it in front of his mouth while he regained oxygen into the proper pipe. Loki chuckled, and waited until the young man regained composure.

“Lord Loki, one of the Magical Gods?” Draco asked when he finally returned to normal.

“If there is an imposter I will have to deal with him,” Loki commented.

“My apologies, Lord Loki. I did not realize it was you. Please forgive me for my ignorance.” Loki had changed his attire earlier that afternoon before popping in to sit with Narcissa. A black business suit, a dark green tie, white button-up with an emerald scarf draped across his shoulders. It was much different from the Asgard uniform he wore earlier. 

“Don’t fret. Your parents reacted worse earlier. It was quite amusing.” Narcissa blushed lightly.

“If I may ask,” Lucius interjected, “how did you two met?” Loki grinned, and answered.

“We met earlier this morning when I was captured by a team of Muggles.” Lucius was careful to stop his face from twitching in disgust at the mention of Muggles. “I allowed them to capture me. I would not simply allow them to touch me as if they actually possessed the abilities to do so.”

“He allowed me to ‘free’ him for clarification,” Harry added as he dug into the vegetables.

“I must say, meeting Lord Potter was a wonderful coincidence. Made my stay a lot more enjoyable.”

“Why were you there?” Loki chuckled before taking a sip of tea.

“Collecting information on the Avengers.”

“Who are they?”

“A group whose only goal is to protect the Muggle world from destruction. They’re an odd sort, and not completely normal in terms of regular mortals. They are highly regarded. Did you ever meet any of them before today Lord Potter?” Harry shook his head.

“I couldn’t tell you who was an Avenger. They sure didn’t come visit little ole me,” he responded with a hint of bitterness. Loki snapped his fingers, and a hologram-like image of Stark in his Iron Man suit appeared in the center of the table. The Malfoys sat back, and observed silently.

“We have Tony Stark or Iron Man as his alternate name.”

“Nope, but I’m sure I heard a scientist grumbling about him once.” Another snap and it changed to an older middle-aged man before switching to a giant green muscled man.

“Bruce Banner also known as the Hulk.”

“Heard, but not seen.” Steve Rogers was next. “Pretty sure one of the Agents was in love with him. Captain America was his name I think.”

“And Steve Rogers.” Another snap.

“I’ve seen him – Clint Barton. Tall and silent. Always carrying a bow and quiver. We’ve spoken a few times. Well, I spoke, he stood there in silence.” Another snap.

“Natasha Romanov is usually with Barton. We’ve spoken once or twice. Lovely woman.” And lastly, the golden haired Norse God.

“The first time I’ve met Thor was today, but he’s the gossip of the staff. I’ve felt his magic, but it’s not the same as yours Loki.” Loki grinned at the compliment.

“Thank you Lord Potter.”

“Who’s Thor?” Draco questioned lightly. Thor was not a part of the Magical Gods.

“A God of no concern,” Loki replied casually. “He means little in what is to come.”

“I have one use for him,” Harry commented, glancing at the Norse God. Loki gazed at the Goblin shackles, and nodded his head in understanding. For the rest of the evening, they spoke on a range of topics.

~.~.~

Stark ended the call for a large amount of pizzas, and walked back to the living room where everyone had remained. Each of the Avengers was conflicted with the serious issue of duty and morals. While half of them had sworn in with S.H.I.E.L.D. for life, the other half’s loyalty was to themselves or Asgard. Stark chuckled darkly at the combative nature that was good versus evil.

Stepping into the living room, everyone looked at him.

“We all agree that what S.H.I.E.L.D. did was wrong, and it seems that only leaves us with one option on the well-being of Harry Potter,” he started.

“Are you suggesting we—“ Natasha added, but was interrupted by Steve who stood up from his spot.

“As of right now, we know that Harry is with Loki, and both are considered highly dangerous in their own ways. Thor—“ The Thunder God perked his head up at the sound of his name. “Only you truly know Loki’s capabilities. We need someone who knows Harry’s, but Fury got to them first.”

“Doesn’t mean we sit back,” Natasha slipped in. “You forget - Barton and I are S.H.I.E.L.D. We can collect information. Since Stark hacks into the database, he can get into our mics and phones to have it recorded. There are some rooms that disable technology so us being in there becomes valuable.”

“Are you sure about this?” Thor asked. The two assassins nodded their heads.

“Something tells me we don’t want to be on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s side when shit hits the fan,” Barton further added. “My gut has never been wrong before.”

“Didn’t Loki have the Tesseract?” Bruce said. 

“It’s at headquarters for the moment. I’m surprised Loki didn’t retrieve it before leaving.”

“He is the God of Mischief. My brother is planning something,” Thor supplied. “I fear whatever he is up to will bring down Son of Potter.”

“Well, now that we have betrayed One-Eye, let’s eat! Pizza is here!” Stark brought forward.


	5. Chapter 5 - The Caged Bird Supports

I would like to thank you guys for the views/favorites/bookmarks/reviews/kudos! I’ve had a rough time this month with academics and it really set my esteem low. As silly as it sounds, reading a review and seeing that people enjoy the story made me happy enough to continue. Thank you.

~.~.~

Chapter 5 – The Caged Bird Supports

~.~.~

A few days later…

~.~.~

Marcus Flint was no short man by any means. He stood at an impressive 6’3” easily towering over the other guests and host. After many years of playing Quidditch and working with dragons in Romania (alongside Charlie Weasley), Flint had an impressive build; it was easy to see that he was more physically incline with muscles that could break a person’s back with hardly any problem. His military-cut black hair was slick and dark green eyes staring at the host who grinned with glee.

Flint had arrived in a plain tight gray shirt allowing others to gaze at his muscles, scars and burn marks. His entire right arm was one massive burn scar from an incident four years ago when he protected a baby dragon from a hunter. Charlie had commented that only Flint could pull that off, and pretend it was nothing. Of course, Flint wore other clothing, but the muscles were (literally) the biggest things on him. Oh! His teeth were straight, but it wasn’t like people saw them anyhow. Marcus Flint hardly spoke as it was.

Theodore Nott was a very thin man, and in comparison to Flint looked like a twig. He was barely 5’8” hidden underneath a pin stripe navy blue suit. His dirty blonde hair was fluffy, but the cold gray eyes told anybody to keep their hands off him though they looked at the host with a curiosity he had not felt in a good while.

Nott had disappeared shortly before the Battle of Hogwarts, and since then randomly popped in and out of the public’s eye. No one knew what he did for a living, but it only took him magically lightning up his smokeless cigarette for anybody to know he had been dabbling in dark magic. No one would comment on it.

Lastly, Blaise Zabini. The 6’1” half-French, half-Italian man smirked, and dubbed the warmest of the three guests. Donned in some very expensive robes with kept dark hair, his brown eyes landed on Draco Malfoy, but switched to Harry Potter who looked like he was about to burst from excitement. Even after all these years, he still worked out, and was nicely built though not quite as much as Flint.

A very handsome man, Zabini continued his mother’s tradition; he had been married six times over the years and currently is widowed. It wasn’t for the money so the motivation behind the marriage and the disappearances of the wives left many questions, but that never stopped women from knocking on his door. 

“Draco said you had an interesting idea Potter,” Zabini commented first; his French-accent hinted from his years spent in France. The men were in the drawing room where tea had been set out. Nott, Zabini and Malfoy seated at the table while Flint decided to lean against the wall closest to the door. Potter was standing near the table with a saucer in his left hand and the cup in his right. Ah, British tea remains superior to that American crap.

“Interesting? Maybe. Fun and exciting? Yes!” Potter exclaimed. “What I have planned will be a positive thing for the Wizarding World. The Muggle World? Meh, who cares.”

“Are you going to tell us?” Nott questioned.

“He refuses to tell anyone until the Wizengamot meeting next month,” Malfoy answered.

“And yet you called us three here saying we would want to join. Join what if you won’t tell us.”

“I doubt the three of us want to join another Voldemort,” Zabini added. The four Slytherins unintentionally glanced at their left arm where their Dark Marks were; Flint had his concealed under a bandage. Potter set his cup down on the saucer before placing it on the table. 

“Fine. I’ll tell you Part B of the plan. Or is it J? No, no, Q,” he mumbled to himself. “No, no Tom, it’s not R.” Potter thumped his head. “Shut up Gilbert.” He clinched his head and shut his eyes for a moment before popping open. “Oh! It is E. E is important for anyone who is willing to support this cause.”

~.~.~

Natasha Romanov and Clint Barton arrived back at S.H.I.E.L.D. an hour before Director Nick Fury did. They waited at the gate as the plane landed. The Director, Agent Coulson, Ron and Hermione Weasley stepped out of the plane. The magical couple looked around in awe as the agents led the way to the conference room. Hermione and Ron stuck close to each other – just because Fury had given his word that no harm would come to them didn’t mean anything to war veterans.

Ron spent nearly every day of career in danger as he hunted down rogue and dark Wizards and Witches of all ages. Sometimes children, sometimes elderly, and other times neighbors. He did his job, and did it well. Even with friends in the department, Ron never developed another friendship like the one he had with Harry. As such, he had grown quite distant and learned to control his jealousy and anger.

Hermione worked in the Ministry as a lawyer thriving to pass laws that enabled Creatures to have the same rights as Witches and Wizard; and to destroy any law that did not benefit the whole wizarding society in general. She fought against people who wanted her dead so she would stop changing the rules set by those who had been dead since 1491. In contrast to her husband, Hermione had developed an anger problem forcing her to take Calming Droughts to keep levelheaded. Neither Weasley would discuss how the incident leading to this occurred. 

Battles were nothing new to them – they had learned, adapted and grown. Together, they would rescue their friend even if it meant turning their backs on everything they knew.

Their wands kept underneath their sleeves, and their eyes were sharp to any movement, Ron and Hermione continued with only one mission in mind.

The company arrived in the conference room; Ron and Hermione sitting across from Fury, the assassins leaning against the wall and Coulson near the door.

“Now that you know who gave your friend up, I think it’s about time you tell us who these people are,” Fury stated. Coulson pulled up the photos on the projector. “Who is the woman?”

~.~.~

Tony Stark and Bruce Banner had stayed up all night discussing the matter. Stark’s search engines were coming up with nothing except for the Salem Witch Trials and other religious aspects of magic. Grumbling, he decided to do a deep root scan of S.H.I.E.L.D. to see if there was anything he had missed the first go around.

It was maybe seven in the morning when Stark’s scans signaled that they had discovered something. The loud beeping noise woke both men up. Grumbling about needing coffee, Stark fully opened his eyes to see what his scans picked up. Turning off the alarm, the screen popped up with two items – a black box wrapped in chains and other mechanisms keeping it shut and trap; the other was a folder with a set of videos inside.

“This doesn’t look good,” Banner softly said. Stark tried to open the file containing the information on the box, but another screen blinking the words ‘Password:’ annoyed Stark. How was it that his best skills were not cracking this? What type of information required, apparently anti-hack, password?

“I don’t like this,” Stark commented. Pulling his Starkpad onto his lab, he typed a few things, and the number ‘10’ popped beside the password screen. “Looks like we only have ten tries to see what’s inside.”

“Or?”

“Or it’ll notify S.H.I.E.L.D. of our meddling.”

“How many characters are in the password?” The typing continued, but ‘ERROR!’ popped up.

“Shit. Looks like we won’t know. Could be anything from one letter to twenty-five in the Greek alphabet.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. allows you to think you know all their secrets when they’ve been hiding the true information from you.”

“Makes me wonder what else they’re hiding. Right now, Potter is our concern, and I have a bad feeling that whatever is inside that box concerns him.”

“What about the other folder?” Stark switched to the folder and opened it without a problem. Inside were hundreds of movie files most likely recordings of experiments.

“I don’t like the look of this.”

~.~.~

“What do you think?” Harry popped out after giving the gentlemen a moment to their thoughts.

“You’re absolutely crazy Potter! Did you lose your mind while in that lab?” Blaise commented. Harry just grinned.

“Nope. Just my heart. Bastards took it thinking magic was inside it.”

“And you are going to reveal the entire plan next month?” Theodore slipped in. Harry nodded his head. “I will wait until next month to give you my full answer. As of right now, I’m in.” Blaise looked at his friend in shock.

“Are you serious Theo? I’ve never known you to go into a deal without at least doing a background check on everyone including the cat.”

“I have a good feeling about this. ‘Sides, Potter here will need my help with a few things, and I’m sure we can compensate on the matter.” Harry grinned. Blaise sighed heavily.

“I’m in,” Marcus spoke; his voice was rough like it wasn’t used often. Blaise couldn’t believe his luck with his companions.

“Excellent! Now, you Blaise? You can wait until next month to decide on your answer,” Harry tried to comfort. Blaise chuckled.

“Doesn’t matter. I was going to join you regardless. I need some excitement in my life aside from getting married.”

“Seems Draco knows us all too well,” Theodore added. “How many people do you need for this Plan E?” Harry paused as he rocked back and forth on his heels.

“Hmm… six to ten I think should be fine. If we can get ten that would be swell. The more the merrier.”

“After next month, I don’t see you lacking in that area of supporters,” Draco interjected.

“We shall see,” Harry said. “For now, let us enjoy some tea and discuss a few more important matters.”

~.~.~

Uh-oh. Who will be a part of Harry’s plot? What is Fury up to? I apologize for the short chapter. I’ll make it up in the next one. It’ll be worth the wait.


End file.
